


Fireworks

by shipskicksandgiggles



Series: Roaring 20's [4]
Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies)
Genre: Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Getting Together, M/M, New Year's Eve, New Year's Kiss, New Year's Resolutions, Non alcoholic champagne, Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-01
Updated: 2021-01-01
Packaged: 2021-03-11 10:35:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,315
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28469901
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shipskicksandgiggles/pseuds/shipskicksandgiggles
Summary: Spending New Year's alone was perfectly fine with Peter. That changes when his best friend shows up at his door with a couple of glasses and a bottle of champagne
Relationships: Harley Keener/Peter Parker
Series: Roaring 20's [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1587010
Comments: 3
Kudos: 124





	Fireworks

**Author's Note:**

> I have no idea is non alcoholic champagne is real or not. I wish it were. anyways

Peter was just considering popping open the bottle of sparkling grape juice his aunt bought him early when his phone rang. 

“Hello?”

" _Peter!”_

“What’s going on, Harles?”

Harley Keener, his best friend and partner in crime, was supposed to have something to do tonight. “ _I’m bored_.”

“It’s New Years Eve. Don’t you have a party to go to?”

“ _I got out of it. What are you doing?”_

Peter clicked his tongue as if he was thinking. “Well, I was about to flip the TV channel over to the countdown thing, and I’ve got a bottle of that shitty, non alcoholic grape juice shit I’m gonna open up here in a few minutes. Why do you ask?”

“ _You’re not doing anything special?”_

“Well no? May is out with Happy and I honestly didn’t feel like dealing with the crowds. I did consider dressing up though, just to be dramatic.”

“ _You should. Why celebrate anything unless you’re having fun?”_

It was a fair point. Peter got up and stretched before heading into his bedroom and putting Harley on speaker so he could rifle through his closet. “So why aren’t you at Mr. Stark’s party?” he asked. 

“ _I lived through one of those last year and I’d rather not do it again. It was fun, but too many people want me to be something that I’m not, and I don’t want to make small talk with people who don’t know me.”_

He hummed as he buttoned up his shirt. “Which tie should I wear?”

“ _Wear the maroon one. Compliments everything about you.”_

“Flattery will get you everywhere, darling.” He tied a simple Windsor knot with ease before looking around for a jacket. “Jacket?”

“ _None.”_

“Interesting choice. None it is.” Peter made his way back into the living room, picking up the remote and changing the channel on the TV. 

There was still a solid 15 minutes before the ball dropped, so he walked into the kitchen and tried to find a champagne flute, listening to Harley complain about shitty bureaucrats all the while. 

“ _Wouldn’t it be nice to just have a normal News Years for once?_ ” Harley asked.

“Normal like ‘get drunk with people our own age and make out with the person closest when the clock strikes midnight’ or like ‘in Times Square surrounded by asshole tourists?’”

“ _Wow, I always forget how different New York is. Our normal was watching either celebrating at a bar or bowling alley, or if you were younger, you’d have a movie night and watch the ball drop before passing out.”_

“Sounds fun,” Peter laughed. “Definitely different.” He cursed quietly. 

“ _You okay?”_

“Yeah, I just can’t find the champagne flutes.”

The doorbell rang. 

“The hell?”

“ _Was that the doorbell? You should probably get that._ ” He sounded like he was smiling. 

Peter rolled his eyes and went to the door. Sure enough, he opened it to Harley standing there, leaned against the doorframe, phone pressed against his ear, a bottle and champagne flutes in his hand. 

“So? Anyone important?” he said, still speaking into the phone. His smirk was so annoying.

“Ass. Get in here, moron.”

He grabbed his wrist and pulled him over the threshold. 

“I brought champagne flutes. And champagne.” Harley set both down on the kitchen counter. 

“We can’t have champagne. Underage drinking is illegal, remember?”

“Never said there was alcohol in it. Bruce helped me develop it. Tastes exactly the same with none of the shit that makes you tipsy.” 

Harley hung his coat by the door, and Peter noticed he was also wearing a suit. “You had this all planned out, huh?”

“Mostly. You not being about to find the glasses was just a lucky coincidence. Watch yourself.” He popped the cork off the bottle and poured a glass for both of them. “C’mon. I wanna watch the ball drop.”

Peter took one of the champagne flutes from his hand and leaned against the couch, watching Harley as he took the armchair. He took a tentative sip of the champagne.

The taste was… interesting. He coughed. “I don’t know why, but I was expecting it to taste more like soda. Ginger Ale maybe.”

Harley laughed and took a sip of his own. “It’s good. Sweet.”

He nodded, still unsure of how to describe it. Silence was fine too, he decided. 

The TV droned on between them. Some celebrity that would be obsolete next year was talking about New Year's Resolutions. 

“Do you have any?”

“Have any what?” Peter glanced in Harley’s direction and caught his breath at the sight of his suit rumpled, tie slightly loosened. 

He gestured to the TV screen. “Resolutions. Things you want to do better this year.”

Peter thought about it for a moment before responding. “Honestly? I don’t think so. Just to keep up with everything that made this year great and I’ll play it by ear. You?”

“Maybe start making an effort to adjust to the New York version of normal.”

“What, like the New Year’s shit I was talking about?”

“I mean I wouldn’t be opposed to the things you were talking about. A New Year’s kiss sounds great, but other stuff too. Tennessee was more, I don’t know. People were nosy, everyone knew everything about everybody else. Everyone here tries to mind their business and ignore the people around them. It’s strange, but I think if I put a little more effort into actually leaving the past in the past, it’ll get easier.”

Peter took another sip of the champagne, hoping Harley couldn’t hear the blood roaring in his ears. He didn’t know what to make of the comment about New Year’s. Honestly, it was probably nothing.

Neither one of them said anything for what felt like forever. More celebrities whose names he’d forgotten made appearances, talking about best moments of the year. 

Two minutes to midnight, Harley spoke up again. 

“You’re quiet tonight. Everything okay?”

“I’m fine. Just thinking,” Peter answered honestly.

“What about?”

“New Year’s.”

Harley’s eyebrow twitched up. “Why? You want me to kiss you at midnight?”

“You offering?”

Both of them froze. Peter had no idea what compelled him to say that, but fuck it. He couldn’t take it back now.

Harley didn’t say anything. Instead he got up and went to refill his glass, offering up the bottle to Peter, who took it graciously and did the same. He passed it back to Harley who replaced the cork and put the bottle away. He moved to sit back down, but hesitated at the last second.

“Come here.” He motioned for Peter to follow him and pulled him into his lap as he sat back down. “This okay?”

Peter didn’t trust himself enough to speak, but he managed to nod. 

“Okay.”

There was 30 seconds left on the clock. Peter had to make a conscious effort to breathe. 

Time seemed to pass slowly, dragging the seconds into hours. 

Harley started counting down. 

“Ten,” he whispered against his neck, making Peter shudder. 

“Nine, eight, seven, six-” 

Was Peter counting too? He wasn’t sure if he was actually speaking aloud. 

“Five, four, three, two-”

At the very least he was mouthing the words, the last semblance of control he had finally breaking through. 

“One.”

Harley clinked their glasses together. 

“Happy New Year.”

He made eye contact with him over the rim of his glass, letting the sweetness of the champagne calm his nerves. 

Peter lowered his glass slowly, still holding his gaze. Harley took it from him, setting it on the end table before winding his arms around Peter’s waist. 

Before he could second guess himself, Peter brought his arms up and around Harley’s neck. He was beautiful like this, eyes shining in the low light, mouth ever so slightly open, just… looking at him.

The kiss was sweet, reminiscent of the champagne they’d had. 

He could hear fireworks. He wasn’t sure if they were real or not.

**Author's Note:**

> in my defense I was left unsupervised  
> my [tumblr](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/playboyphilanthro-pissed)


End file.
